


Blossom

by Well excuse me (Donya)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flora AU, Humour, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 15:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11489607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donya/pseuds/Well%20excuse%20me
Summary: ̶P̶o̶t̶ Flower pot AU.Sherlock the lavender falls in love with Molly the petunia. Jim the Sarracenia tries to mess with them.





	Blossom

The days on the windowsill started always the same. Whether the sky was hidden behind dark grey clouds or clear, the first thing was watering. The human would draw the curtain away and say, 'Good morning, plants!' The watering can was always full and the ritual of watering started from the most important plant: Sherlock the lavender. It stood tall and graceful, his delicate flowers turned to the source of light. The human loved him most, he was sure, he had always been kept very moist and his pot was placed in the sunniest spot. Obviously, he was the favourite plant.

After the lavender, the can was moved to the only carnivore among them, Jim the trumpet pitcher plant. Shorter than Sherlock, unpredictable and menacing, he would lure the unsuspecting insects, play with them and let some of them go. Others were trapped and digested. The lavender was disgusted. Alarmed. Furiously fascinated. The Sarracenia was the only plant who had a saucer and the human filled it now with water. Jim drank it greedily.

The next one was Mycroft, a roundish cactus. His sharp spikes protected him from danger and affection. He was watered only once a week and always wanted more. The rest of the plants almost felt sorry for him, but he had a habit of pushing others away and his cold, defensive demeanour did not help. Jim would taunt him by slurping his water extra loudly. That day Mycroft didn't get a single drop and sighed, disappointed but not surprised.

Uncomfortably near Mycroft, there was ~~the Wig~~ ~~Wiggy~~ Billy the catnip. He joined the crew only because the human had an anxious cat. Whenever anyone or anything approached Billy, he would say, 'Hey, hey. Want some good stuff, mate? 100% natural, best quality.' The cat was hooked, quite often it would sit between the pots, too stoned to move. 

The last one was Molly the petunia. Beautiful, with gorgeous pink flowers. Her pot was the prettiest, colourful and patterned. Sherlock used to think this orgy of bright, warm colours and various shapes was ridiculous and preferred his own pot, plain and dark. His opinion changed with time. Now he thought the pot matched the cheery plant perfectly. Molly was not as vulnerable as she looked, she was surprisingly tolerant of heat and strong. Also, unlike some plant that was no longer with them, she didn't make assumptions about Sherlock based on his flamboyance, elegance and vanity.

Molly was watered and the human began to remove her faded flowers. Sherlock liked having it done to him, dried flowers were so awful and he wanted them gone. Molly endured the procedure with patience and grace. Once it was over and the human disappeared, Molly turned to Mycroft, who tried to hide how upset he was.

'Cheer up. You'll get more attention when you bloom.'

Mycroft was offended. 'Bloom? I would never do that... This is a hideous slander. Also, I do not need attention.' 

'Don't be so spiky. Oh, I'm sorry, that was a dry joke. Oh, sorry again.' Molly's level of embarrassment was sky-high and she smiled nervously.

Sherlock shrugged, his flowers swayed gently. He was not jealous. Molly was friendly and interacted with all the plants, even the Sarracenia. Always so helpful and supportive and adorably awkward. Sherlock secretly wanted the petunia to notice only him. Why would she care about that grumpy cactus?

The morning was warm and sunny. A curious fly was passing by and stopped to take a closer look at the Sarracenia.

'Mmm, yes, come to daddy,' Jim purred, grimly amused. The fly had no choice, it began to inspect his curiously shaped leaves, helpless to resist his deadly charm. When the fly circled the rim of the biggest pitcher, Jim gave Sherlock a filthy smile. 'You don't know what you're missing, love. A good rimming is never bad.'

 

Hours passed and the day suddenly darkened. Rain. The window was open wide, the plants defenceless. Sherlock didn't mind a few drops, neither did Jim. But Molly's flowers were at risk. Heavy raindrops could crush them. She put on a brave face and braced herself. Mycroft felt apprehensive and didn't bother concealing it. His only friend was in danger and it frightened him.

The rain hit them with such force that Molly started shaking. Mycroft gasped, not caring what others would think. Jim watched the petunia's struggle with calm interest. The human didn't come to close the window. Sherlock couldn't bear the thought of witnessing Molly's loss and reached out towards her pink flowers, tried his best to shield them from the onslaught.

'How do I look?' Molly asked when the rain stopped suddenly.

Sherlock pulled away and glanced at the thick flowers, glistening and dripping. 'Um, good.'

Molly chuckled, pleased with his answer. Mycroft eyed the both of them without a word. Jim whispered something to his minion and the fly rushed to attack Molly. Sherlock didn't have enough time to form a plan to save her, she solved the problem without any help. She shook her flowers and a few drops of water dazed the fly, it landed on the windowsill, confused.

'Really?' Molly turned to Jim, sounding unfazed.

'That was rather... good,' Sherlock muttered, impressed.

'Thank you. You needn't have worried, I'm used to getting wet. No, I didn't mean it that way!'

Sherlock found himself smirking and pictured Molly without the protection of her lovely pot. Exposed, soaking wet, dirty. That was unexpected. Sherlock had never wanted to be intimate with another plant. Molly was his friend, but it wouldn't be the first time in history that friendship blossomed into love. To Sherlock's surprise, the realisation didn't cause a huge wave of panic. A tingling sensation that spread through his entire form was entirely pleasant. He felt ready to open his flowers up to her. 


End file.
